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It's Chilly In Siberia


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Chances are I will continue this one, chapters to come!

"As of 0400, the oil rig Kamilya has gone offline. Attempts to contact the crew have failed, there is no response from their end. The large oil rig is off the Siberian coast, and it is very, very cold there." the Admiral tapped his stick on a topographic map.

"And what of our mission Admiral?" one of the soldiers asked, shifting around in his seat.

"Your mission," the Admiral handed them each a file, "is to infiltrate, recover, and evacuate the workers onboard the Kamilya. As a secondary objective, you are tasked with recovering the vital documents on-board to prevent them from falling into enemy, and most definitely Russian hands. Now go, we don't have much time."

------------------------------------------------------------------

The Black Hawk's compartment was loud, rattling in the men's ears as they headed towards the oil rig. Squad leader Smith checked his ammunition, taking note that the Command had really decked them out this time. Explosive, incendiary, and AP rounds, not to mention several types of grenades and explosives. Around him, Hammer and Nail, the two brothers, sat and smoked a cigarette. It was almost like a routine before an operation. Lim kept fiddling with his sniper scope and the various dials, nothing could be too precise for the slim Asian man.

"Y'all are dropping in 3. Get your gear together." the pilot yelled.

The men piled into the small speedboat which served as their primary mode of transportation to the rig. The green light flashed and the floor folded away, dropping the boat like a small bomb onto the water.

"Have a nice time in Siberia boys!" the pilot yelled before turning tail. The black boat continued on through the water as the oil rig got closer and closer.

"Remember, there are civilians on this boat. Excuse the pun, but stay frosty." Smith spoke into the mic. His visor slid shut, bringing up a tactical map and blinkers of his location as well as the other squad members'.

The first thing the team noticed going in was that it was silent. Pure silence when they cut the engine, allowing the boat to drift closer without any noise. The Kamilya towered above them, all dark. Lim gulped. The boat was tiny in comparison to the beast that loomed above them. The team bumped against one of the docking platforms and quickly got to work. They spread out into a fan, covering the dark corners and piles of boxes.

"First thing. Get to the control room." Smith ordered. They ascended up the stairs to the next level. A large pool of blood covered a portion of the icy deck, and there was another blood trail leading to a windowless door. Smith silently pointed two fingers, and peered around. Nothing out of the ordinary, so far. Lim kicked in the door, allowing Hammer to charge in. The smell was overpowering, a dead body swinging minutely by a hook in the far corner of the room. Overturned desks and papers littered the floor, and shards of glass turned every step into a crunch.

"Son of a . . . " Hammer coughed, observing the wreckage. Smith walked up and examined the body, noticing that beneath the frost there was the uniform of an engineer as well as several bite marks and pieces of flesh missing.

"What the hell..." Smith whispered, "Let's move out."

The fireteam came across a dark hallway leading to the upper levels, the Mess Hall, the Control Room, and Electrical. It was still terribly dark inside, and the soldiers had to use flashlights which pretty much ruined their night vision.

There was a rustling ahead and flashlights snapped up to pinpoint a slightly swinging chain. Something had moved the chain . . .

"Hello? US Military." Lim called out, his voice echoing down the blackness. Nothing came back. Smith motioned forward and the team advanced again, backing from the hallway into the Electrical room.

It was a huge room filled with usually whirring generators. Shadows crept in from every corner, and the chasm below served to remind yourself to watch your step or plummet off to your death. Smith looked around cautiously, taking a step onto the first catwalk. The power switch was on the other side of the room according to his tactical map, but they'd cross a wide expanse of thin, metal grating that separated them from a horrible death.

"Nail, you're coming with. Hammer, Lim? Stay here and watch out backs. Ruskies could be here already."

The pair started off, watching for any movement. They reached the power switch after a 5 minute silence, and observed it closely. The power was off, not down. Someone had pulled the plug. Blood soaked the handle of the large lever, and it was dripping slowly off the red material onto the metal. Drip, drip, drip, drip. A series of words brought Nail's eye to the wall behind the ox. Scratched crudely into the metal was "Power awakens the." The rest of the words were covered in a large splotch of black liquid, presumably blood. Smith payed no heed and yanked the power switch. A huge whirr went up around as the generators started to spin, turning on the lights one by one. The oil rig flickered to life. And then, nothing. In the east, Russian helicopters flew across Siberia to the oil rig. They dispatched quickly, Spetsnaz filing out between the rows of boxes. A gunship circled on overwatch as the dozens swarmed the oil rig like ants.

Hammer and Lim were standing silently by the door, besides the occasional shift or adjustment. Lim turned his head, noticed a large tear in the wall and a line of bullets. Something had been going on here, and he didn't like it one bit. There was a groaning noise above which echoed in the chamber as the power came back on. Distantly, a chopper made its way through the air and-Wait. A chopper?

"Hammer, I think we got a prob-"

"DUCK!" Hammer screamed, throwing Lim to the ground. Bullets whizzed by their head and ricocheted off the far wall. Hammer returned fire with his assault rifle, the gun cracking in his hands as the Spetsnaz in the hallway backed around the corner to take cover.

"Son of a bitch!" Lim gasped, raising his MP5 and firing a burst down the hallway. Bullets zipped back and him. "Where the hell did they come from!?"

Smith and Nail sprinted across to the door, throwing frag grenades down the hallway. Twin booms rattled the men's teeth and smoke curled out of the opening. They powered through it all, turning the corner just in time to see the Spetsnaz retreating into a open doorway which slammed shut.

"I don't think there are any civilians left if the Reds are here sir." Hammer said, reloading calmly. His empty mag clattered to the floor. Forced down the long hallway, the soldiers eventually came to an open deck with several boxes. Russian soldiers were loading crates filled with loose paper, probably vital documents. The guard turned around into bullets which caved in his face. Blood and bone spewed into the air as the burst carried him off the railing and into the freezing water below. The rest of the soldiers turned and ran for their weapons. Nail calmly shot them mid-step and Lim firing at a pilot who was frantically trying to lift his helicopter out of range. The AP bullets punched through the glass and hit the pilot's spine high, causing his arms to slack and push forward on the controls. The helicopter whined and dove forward into the infrastructure, cutting cables and sending steel beams crashing to the ground. It collided with a fuel tank, catching on fire, and slide across the deck to knock Russians away like bowling pins. The huge metal behemoth slid to a burning halt partway inside an office, the tail rotor still lazily spinning.

"Good shot Lim. Shit, there's no way civilians coulda survived this."

Charred and bullet-ridden bodies littered the floor, and loose papers flew off into the air. But that wasn't the last of the Russians. They clattered around the corner, guns blazing even as the elite soldiers dived behind boxes filled with papers. The boxes thudded as bullets failed to pass through the other side, but they wouldn't hold for long. Lim heard the whining again, looking up as the Russian gunship hovered in the air and charged up her miniguns.

"Motherfu-"

The miniguns discharged their 5mm rounds, shredding the very air with lead as the pilot raked his fire across the boxes. They splintered under the massive metal onslaught with a hideous crackling sound.

"Nail! Naaail! Get some heavy fire on that bastard!" Smith yelled, blindly firing his assault rifle at the advancing Russians.

Nail gritted his teeth and unlatched the AT Launcher, rising up to fire at the grey flyer. He took a bullet in the shoulder right before firing, causing him to reel and press the trigger. The rocket accelerated forward in a trail of smoke, off target but nevertheless lethal. It collided with one of the rocket pods on the wing, detonating the ballistic weapons. The pilot panicked, swerving his gunship into a fast spiral. The tail rotor ripped off in a shower of sparks as the gunship slammed through a wall and into what appeared to be the mess hall. Another explosion, this one bigger, gushed out the windows above them.

"Shit! Good shot Nail, we gotta get outta here!" Smith hauled Nail into one of the rooms, looking in his pack for some bandages to stop the bleeding. Nail'd taken 4 bullets in the arm, thankfully small ones.

"Sarge...behind..." Nail groaned as the Sargent turned into a gun muzzle. The Russian was a bear-like man (how fitting) and stank of alcohol and sweat. Smith slowly put himself in a crouch as the Russian tracked him. An explosion outside the building shook the deck and the Spetsnaz stumbled just enough for Smith to lash out with his boot. The man tumbled and fired, the bullet grazing Smith and pinging neatly into a computer screen. Smith grunted and shoved the man down the stairs, tumbling along with him. They landed in a heap at the bottom, Smith up against the corner as they fought. The Russian pulled out a serrated knife, intent on cutting Smith to pieces, He forced his hand closer to the Sarge's mouth, the blade shaking ever so slightly. Outside, the shooting had intensified. Screams punctuated the air. Just as the blade touched the edge of his neck, Smith's senses filled with the stench of dead flesh. Was it the Russian? Jesus, what did he eat for breakfast??? But it appeared to be something else entirely. The hulking creature lifted the soldier straight up screaming, and ripped into the back of his neck. Pieces of flesh and drops of blood spattered Smith who rolled under the screaming soldier and ran for it, tripping down another flight of stairs and landing on his chest. Distantly, he could hear the screaming of the Russian man as he was torn into by that . . . that thing. All the Sarge knew was that he had to get out of there, and fast. The metal felt very very cold on his hands and he crawled to safety, to wherever that was. Shots were fired on the level above him, he presumed it would be Nail. Nail would have to fend for himself, as for the rest of the squad members? Well, they would too. Stumbling along the corridor, Smith heard a groaning noise inside one of the doors. He hurried past it, aware that one of those things could be inside. Disoriented and exhausted, the soldier looked around for a way out. There! Food storage! The doors were trying to close repeatedly, but there was a body wedged in between them. The crew member had been ripped open at the stomach, revealing glossy intestines and a ripped up stomach. Parts of his entrails lay like noodles along the corridor. His eyes were rolled back in his head and there was a fire axe beside him. Smith grabbed it, testing the weight with one hand. The other kept his pistol at the ready. Smith dragged the body out and the doors slammed shut with a crash. There were two handles and Smith wedged these with a piece of wood he found on the ground. Suddenly, the plank vibrated intensely as if a person was trying to escape. The window next to the door was frosty but Smith wiped it away, revealing a horrible site. Food storage consisted of heaters and lots and lots of crates. Dozens of the things were stumbling about unaware, until Smith had slammed the doors shut. They were banging the doors with their fists, moaning loudly and screeching. Their eyes were a vibrant yellow, and skin hung off of them in tatters. He backed away slowly, taking note that the wooden plank was starting to shatter. It cracked once, twice, and the floodgates opened...

Chapter two to come soon! Maybe.

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Chapter 2

Audio Log 8172

Officer Sergei

07/22/2013

"This is Officer Sergei, stationed on the Kamilya. The drilling is going well, there is a lot of oil down there, and, well I'm sure I can retire comfortably after this. The wife is waiting at home, haven't gotten a chance to Skype her out here yet because it's *chatters teeth* f-f-fucking freezing . . . but what can you expect from Siberia eh? Anyways, *loud shout and clatter* one second . . . *scuffling* Alright I gotta go, we just hit something big. Sergei, signing off."

//END

Nail groaned as he shifted position, trying to pluck out the last bullet. He managed a small gasp as the bullet came free with a small spurt of blood. Smith and the Russian had long gone by now, and Nail had heard someone, chances are it was the Russian, die. There were small munching sounds coming from the stairwell, and Nail was afraid more than anytime in his life. Outside the small office, he could hear nothing. Looks like the gunmen had taken it elsewhere. "Or they were all dead." the small voice said in his head.

"Ack, fuck off." Nail growled at himself. He stood up, putting out a rough hand to steady himself. With a rifle in his hands, he stalked to the doorway and swung it open. Silence greeted him like a cold embrace, and death swirled at his knees. Bodies were everywhere, from the guns or from the creatures he didn't know. Soldiers in full combat gear lay everywhere, the blood pooling and creating huge patches of red on the frozen deck. Guns and empty shells covered almost every inch of the surface, and occasionally a radio would fizz. The smoking tail rotor could be seen a few meters away.

"Now where is the rest of my squad? Lim and Hammer were out here. . . " Nail wondered. There was a shuffle behind him and he turned around, straight into an arm swing that sent him tumbling to the ground. The former human staggered towards him,

emitting a high screech as its razor sharp mouth opened. Nail scrambled backwards, finding his rifle.

"Agh!" he yelled, shoving the barrel into the creature's stomach. the zombie paid no heed to the device lodged in its body as Nail struggled to pull the trigger. Three shots did the job, blowing out intestines and flesh with each *CRACK*. The zombie slumped over him, the eyes fading to a less-intense yellow. Did that mean it was dead? The soldier shoved the zombie aside and stood up, brushing off his pants.

Meanwhile, Lim and Hammer were running. Their combat boots rattled against the cold floors as men opened fire behind them, blowing a conduit which hissed a massive cloud of white steam. A shower of bullets pinged off the bulkheads, sparks showering Lim's neck as he ducked to avoid a burst of lead.

"This way Hammer!" he screamed, quickly looking at his tactical map. It was dead, a black screen. So much for technology. The steam still clouded his vision despite the flashlight. Suddenly, Lim was thrown backwards down a flight of stairs. He rolled, cracking his arm on something and ending up in a room full of machinery.

"Ugh . . . " he groaned. Hammer had disappeared, and the Russians still clattered around upstairs. But now they were shooting at something else. Hammer was obviously not there. . . so who? Lim hauled himself up at made his way through the machinery. They loomed above him, multiple oil drilling and observatory vehicles. Something stirred from behind a sparking console covered in blood, and Lim snapped his pistol onto the hand that dragged itself onto the desk. Next, the matted hair and scalp, the drawn out skin, the uniform of the former engineer that was now. . . a freak of nature. The piercing yellow eyed creature let out a low growl, and from all around the shadows, yellow eyes popped into place like a city's houses at night. They screamed as a collective mind, and charged. . .

Hammer stumbled through the steam, hacking and coughing through a doorway. The Russians had stopped shooting and Hammer relaxed a little, hoping for some rest. The sudden staccato of an A-91 alerted Hammer to the proximity of the Russian forces. Who the hell were they shooting at? A Saiga-12 shotgun spun through the doorway and clattered against the opposite wall. Hammer took a look at it. There was a severed hand still clutching the gun, obviously torn off. The soldier got up carefully at took the Saiga-12 in his hands, having lost the assault rifle in the confusion. There was a loud drawn out scream, and rapid Russian. Another scream, this one short and guttural. Hammer checked the shotgun and wheeled around, turning away the second he did. The dead pursuers had been looking for him, obviously, but something had taken them apart. One of the enemies had his chest torn open and his rib cage forced apart, causing a mess of blood. His heart had been brutally torn at, as well as his lungs which were shredded beyond belief. Another had his face bitten into, and all that remained was half the lips and an eye. Many of the soldiers were decapitated or had limbs missing and the stink of death was stifling. Hammer threw up, wiping his mouth.

"Looks like they ran into a little problem..." he joked to himself, but was wary at the same time. What could have done this, he thought he knew. But no, it wasn't possible. Not in a million years. What the hell had the oil crew found down there?

The floodgates opened and the beasts lunged for Smith as he turned tail and sprinted down the corridor. The horde pounded after him, shaking the floor as they followed the living meal which ran before them. The myriad of zombified technicians, engineers, drill crew, and deck crew pursued with haste, making Smith even more nervous. He doubted he could lose the undead in the maze of hallways. The babbling group behind him filled the entire hallway and Smith turned around, firing into the crowd with his pistol. The bullets punched through their mouths and foreheads, exiting with a shower of blood and bone. The zombies just stumbled over their fallen "comrades" in the race for the first bite, not caring how many losses they took. Smith cursed and threw the pistol like a boomerang, which twirled through the air and slammed into a shambling long-haired supervisor, barrel lodged in her eye socket. She dropped like a brick, only to get back up again drooling at the mouth. The distressed soldier jumped down a flight of stairs and reached a room. He barred the door with several heavy boxes and ran to the other corner of the room, panting as the door shook and rattled. It wouldn't hold for long, and he had no firepower left. Except for one thing . . . Smith grinned as he opened his pack and saw the explosives.

Audio Transmission 8173

Officer Sergei

07/25/2013

"We've hit a huge amount of oil! Jeez, we're going to make billions on this! We've also found some sort of valuable rock, techies down in the basement say they've never seen it before. It was found along with the oil, and it's probably something worth takin' back to the government. Some armed guards are startin' to patrol at night, I don't know why. After all, what the hell could be out here in Siberia right? Somethin' fishy is going on, but I'm glad we actually hit oil. God knows the world needs it. *shout, a gunshot* Oh shit, one of the guards is acting up again. I guess they're a bit jumpy out here . . . I wouldn't see why. Anyways, I gotta go. Sergei out."

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Another thrilling and enticing chapter. It's all written so well I cannot wait untill you post more.

I really like how the start of the whole endemic is being reveled slowly in the for of a log by one of the drillees. This means that suspence for the currently surviving characters, but leave questions for what is going to happen that causes such destruction in the first place, who is it that gave the warning about the power.

POST MORE !!!!!!!

-Flareon

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  • 4 weeks later...

Chapter 3

Lim fired in all directions, the sharp crack of his submachine gun felling zombies around him. The gun clicked empty and he threw it away, sliding the sniper rifle from his back. *BOOM* The undead was punched backwards with a huge hole in his chest as the sniper round forced its way through his torso and into another zombie's face. Dozens of other zombies were still stumbling towards him though. Lim quickly looked around, firing his rifle again and again with heavy thumps. Zombies fell, but five more took their place. "Oh shit oh shit oh shit." he whispered to himself, looking wildly. His next shot came almost as a blessing though. The bullet punctured a zombie and hit a pipe, causing the gas to ignite inside of it. The fire spread in a wave, flattening Lim and everything around him. The heat of the flames washed over him and he coughed, sitting up and scrambling to get out. The charred zombies struggled on the floor despite their melted flesh and multiple burns. They just didn't die. Lim staggered to the other end of the room, pushing open a door into yet another hallway. He didn't pause to read the sign which barely flickered above him coated in blood. "Infirmary."

Elsewhere on the Kamilya, the team was still split up. Hammer stalked the hallways, trying to find a safehouse in which he could rest. After hours of searching and eating ration bars, a flurry of shots echoed through the hallways as well as screams and moans. Hammer tracked it, and he finally found the rec room. Pushing the door open with a slight squeak, he swung in and took in the scene before him. A quartet of soldiers were behind tables, firing away at zombies stumbling through the doors of the various rooms. One of them, in a gas mask, yelled something intelligible as he was dragged over the table and into the hoard. His mask was immediately ripped off and discarded, the gun snapping under the weight of the rotten flesh, and his body ripped into many, many parts by the feasting things. The other soldiers panicked, vaulting over the tables to try to get away. Hammer stood in the doorway, calmly picking off the undead that turned their attention towards him. Bodies were punched backwards by the force, smashing into all sorts of debris. The remaining Russians were taken down brutally, dying horrible deaths as the zombies ate them alive. They could only look down in horror as the beasts consumed their minds, legs, then their midriffs, and finally, their hearts. "Mother of God . . . " Hammer whispered. This mission had turned to pure madness. Pure. Fucking. Madness. He turned tail and ran for it, going down random hallways and passing rooms he didn't know. He found himself in a chamber of barrels. He was lost.

The door slammed open, clanging against the wall with a shriek. Dozens of zombies stumbled in, looking for their prey. It was nowhere to be seen in the gloomy room. Besides the usual bloodstained and dusty junk, there was a black bag on the floor. Nothing payed attention to it though. Suddenly there was a beep. And then another one. And another, increasing as the pack of explosives was sent the signal . . . that turned the room into a firestorm from hell. The inferno consumed the undead, deep frying them and tossing the charred remains around the room like it was a blender. Skin and flesh cooked, bone and meat fused as it swept through and was gone with a roar and the acrid smell of bomb residue. A couple seconds after the smoke cleared, Smith rappelled down from a rope and landed with a clack of his boots. The soldier calmly crunched down on a moaning head before continuing on his way out the door.

Just a second after Nail had escaped near death, he came under fire again. The Russians were bunkered down in a corner of the oil rig, presumably waiting for evac from their chopper. As Nail crossed between the boxes, shots rang out and peppered the wood around him, sending small splinters everywhere. Diving behind cover, he raised his rifle over the box and fired a burst. His aim was true, hearing a scream of pain as the bullets lodged neatly in the Russian's chest. They stopped firing, for the time being. Nail thought he'd be safe, but then he heard some jabbering, and a small clink and thump. He looked over to the next box, there was a grenade on it.

"Son of a . . . "

Audio Transmission 8174

Officer Sergei

08/2/2013

They're . . . it's out there. I don't know where the hell they came from, but . . . the guards are almost -BRRRRRATTTTTT- Oh shit! They're . . . they're here! I'm gonna take this thing with me, I might get out of the -CRASH tinkle tinkle tinkle- They're coming through the windows, I have to go. I'm sorry, oh god oh god. -the sound of running- I think . . . I think I lost them. -BRRRRRATTTTTTTT BRRATTTTTT- What we hit down there . . . I don't even know . . . I . . . I have to go.

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